


Winter cornflower

by Ruiskukka



Category: CountryHumans, Countryballs, Geography (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Psychology, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruiskukka/pseuds/Ruiskukka
Summary: Love you is like a whole torment that you don't even know about. Just like you don't know why I died.
Relationships: USSR/Finland
Kudos: 7





	Winter cornflower

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Последний зимний василёк](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/622333) by Ruiskukka. 



_Blue flowers are all_

_That will remain after me._

_And this news will be carried_

_By the moon full of sadness,_

_Which will take me on the way,_

_The last one as our winter war._

Falling from impotence before the unbearable pain in the veins, which from the inside were overgrown with beautiful, but infernal for a person, flowers, Finland wheeze softly. The damned flowers were choking him from the inside out, forcing him to cling more tightly to the floor and hoping to merge with it. With each passing minute, they became more and more, covering the man's body with blue flowers.

The wave of pain began to recede, but the man knew that it would return with a vengeance, because his love would forever remain in front of the impregnable wall that completely broke his life. A Scandinavian would never have thought that his attraction to a stately and attractive man would be fatal for him. Even when they were together, Finn could not imagine that everything would turn out this way, and even then these flowers began to grow, which so wanted love, but, unfortunately, their feelings were unrequited.

Somehow lifting her body and sitting down on the cold floor, he examined his hands: they are almost completely covered with flowers. And it made the northerner even worse to know that were more of them under his clothes, and that they would not stop until they sent him to Helheim. They begin to creep into the visible part — the face. A man used to be able to hide it somehow, but now that they've bloomed under his left eye, there's no hiding them. The only thing left for him was to wait for his fate. Fin would not wish this on his worst enemy now, because it was worse than death. Why he had not yet ended his suffering by shooting himself in the temple, the Scandinavian did not know. For some reason, he lived and suffered further. Either the country was just scared, or it didn't want to give in to the pain.

Remembering the great figure of the Union, the country again feel a new wave of pain from the seemingly fragile flowers. The cornflower burned through almost all of Finn's organs and he curled up again and tried not to scream in agony. Another fit of coughing seized him. Wonderful flowers bring so much agony and tears that they seemed to be messengers of death, and not descendants of the clear blue sky or the endless ocean. They bit into his body, bringing a terrible pain that could not be compared to the gunshot wound in the chest that he had long ago received from his own object of love.

When the monstrous ordeal came to an end again, but promised to return, Finland was able to catch my breath a little. But he made no more attempts to get up, because he knew what it could mean for him, so he decided to lie on the floor in the middle of the room, almost empty and dark. Only a few pieces of furniture were there, and the Windows were boarded up with wooden planks that let in only a little light. Fin fixed his haggard gaze on his hands, and a momentary anger seized him, and he tore the cornflowers from his flesh with reckless fury.

Only after pulling out the first flowers, Finn felt with what incredible force passed another wave of agony, which made the man grimace from the unbearable pain, but this did not stop him, and he again pulled out the next flowers. This time, however, it was even more painful. The country could no longer contain its cry. A high-pitched, agonized wail filled the space around, but in a moment it was replaced by a hoarse, coughing sound. The northerner tried to cough up the flowers that had sprouted in his throat and lungs. They made it very difficult to breathe, but the Finn tried to somehow hold on and not suffocate.

A new wave of flowers sprouted in the same places where they had been torn out with so much effort and pain. But they did not stop there and began to grow further, biting into the neck of the suffering Republic. There was a silent cry and salty tears began to roll down from the frightened eyes. All cornflowers began to grow on the face of the Scandinavian, forcing him to shrink even more and hope that the torture will soon end. But it was just beginning. This time, she was going to end the country, but not before finally tormenting it.

Vision began to blur and swim. The end was creeping closer to the exhausted victim, who did not want to give up so easily. Somehow overcoming the terrible pain in his entire body, Finn tried to get up carefully, trying not to cause another torment that might last for him indefinitely, but in fact only a couple of minutes. He should have tried to forget the object of his passion so that the pain would go away, but he could not get the man he loved so much out of his mind and because of whom he was suffering so much.

Without support, it was clearly impossible for him to get up, so he has to crawl to a nearby bed. But when he was almost there, it broke him again, making him curl up and groan in pain. The man was no longer able to scream. Merciless flowers grew stronger in the lungs, bringing excruciating pain when trying to breathe. A new fit of coughing came over the defenseless country. He tried unsuccessfully to cough up blood and blue flowers.

When the next torture has passed, Finland, groaning and overcoming a terrible pain, tries to get up. Holding himself up with the bed, he manages to get up somehow, and then on wobbly legs and seething pain in his veins, he staggered from side to side, walked to the exit. ~~Step.~~ He wanted to take one last look at what was causing him such pain all over his body. Wanted to touch his face. Wanted to bite into someone else's and at the same time native lips. ~~Two more steps.~~ But Finn knew that would never happen again. He won't even be able to go further than his room. He is destined to stay here until the very end, not seeing more white light, fluffy snow, bright snowflakes and feel the frosty smell of the spruce forest. Not be able to see the wonderful flowers-lilies of the valley that modestly lower their heads, mysteriously beckoning to them. He won't have another glass with his older brother. He would never see his brothers again. ~~The next one step.~~ They will always remain only as a memory in his dying mind, and he for them - as a flower that died in the harsh winter. And his love for the USSR will remain a memory.

Remembering the Communist, the Scandinavian felt as if he was pierced by thousands of needles that bit into his skin without pity. Once again, he was overcome by an uncontrollable pain that made his legs askew and made him want to howl, but the man only coughed so hard that he could no longer scream. ~~More step.~~

"Why? Why is this happening to me?" — tears gushed from tired eyes. Fin despaired and could not understand why and for what he was so punished by life. What did he do wrong? What is all this for? For unrequited love for a selfish man?

The man wanted to howl at such injustice and searing pain, but he couldn't. Simply couldn't. There was nothing he could do or change. It was too late. It was his moment to say goodbye to the world. Valhalla is waiting.

And after all, he would like a drop of love, to be in the arms of a loved one. Again feel his hot breath on your ever-cold skin. And be forgotten with it forever. Get rid of mental and physical pain. But, to his deep regret, he chose the wrong person, who now ghostly haunts him and causes incredible torment. Is it really going to end like this? ~~Step.~~

The man stumbles to the floor and falls to the floor in despair.

The country, already exhausted, clenched its hands into fists. He didn't want to give in to the pain and the damned arrogant Union that would probably be only too happy to hear of his death. But no matter how much Finn tried and refused to get up, he was powerless, and he would have to wait for his end in a closed room that was covered with frightening darkness. Man no longer remembers why he boarded up the windows in the room. 

His eyes were already dry from the recent flood of tears. For them, there was not enough moisture in the exhausted body that lay exhausted on the wooden floor. He felt a strong pulling pain in chest that made him writhe and howl a little, though it was more like a quiet growl. The heavenly flowers had reached his heart and were biting into it with bloodthirsty fury. Another fit of coughing struck him down, preventing him from even once inhaling the desired air. The northerner could no longer bear such torture: his lungs were completely covered with flowers, and he could not breathe, only coughed whole clusters of cornflowers, which turned red because they were covered with his frosty blood.

How he hated those fragile flowers that he had often seen in the Union house and that now constantly tormented him. This is the last thing he will be able to see before his death.

These flowers grow only in summer until late autumn, enjoying the summer sun and rain, and the coolness of autumn, but those cornflowers that so tormented the state, bloomed in winter, preferring cold winds and soft snow, which in winter will die, forever disappearing from this world.

The Scandinavian could no longer breathe. The flowers that bloomed and burned his lungs kept him from taking a single breath. This is how he will die: with hatred for the defenseless, but monstrous for him, flowers, with infinite regrets and infinite love for the arrogant USSR.

Finn wanted to tear at his throat in the hope of somehow getting rid of the flowers inside so that he could take a deep breath. But it wouldn't help. Nothing will help him now. He would be left here forever, alone and in total darkness, with the flowers he hated, which continued to sting.

Finland froze without moving. His eyes were empty. His torment was over. ~~But for some, they are just beginning.~~

The only winter cornflower dies from the unbearable pain of unrequited love, which has plagued the country for a long time, which has become free from this agony.

The only and last blue flower will never be able to bloom in winter. And no one will be able to see it flourish again.


End file.
